The Locked Door
by Seshat0120
Summary: Tag for the episode "The Gamekeeper". Daniel's not quite as ok with what happened as it seemed at the end of the episode.


**The Locked Door**

By Seshat0120

_Author's note: I'd like to extend my sincerest gratitude to Wings128 and Asearcher for their assistance beta reading this. Thank you, ladies. It wouldn't be what it is without your insights._

Daniel was in a fog as he parked his car at his apartment. As soon as the debriefing for the mission to P7J-989 was over, he'd made his way quickly out of the mountain. He didn't want to talk to anyone or see the looks of pity he knew would be in his friends' faces.

He'd shared the barest minimum that he'd had to at the debriefing - trying to keep to dry facts only. He'd even gone to the extent of not naming exactly what memory he'd been forced to relive - with Sam as a witness. He knew he wouldn't have been able to keep his feelings tamped down if he'd had to explain exactly what it was. He'd been grateful that Sam hadn't elaborated on what they'd experienced either but he had no idea what she may have told anyone either before the debriefing or after it.

For the past twenty-five years, he'd done his damnedest to put the death of his parents behind him and block out those visions from his mind. As a child, nightmares had been his constant companions, but it had been years since he'd woken from a sound sleep with the echoes of that horrific accident still vivid in his mind. They'd been responsible for him being moved on more than one occasion. There weren't many people who were willing to take on the burden of an emotionally traumatized child. He'd finally figured that out when he found himself being moved to the fifth sent of foster parents in a three-year period. From that point on, he'd decided he had to control his feelings, push them behind a locked door and hide them from everyone else.

In one day, that door had been unlocked and flung open and that control that he'd so painstakingly gained had been destroyed. He'd lost track of the number of times he'd been forced to witness their deaths again…to see the stone falling, to hear their cries and know there wasn't a damned thing he could do to change it.

He'd done his best to hide how it was affecting him from the rest of his team. Sure, Sam had seen him break down after the first time and witnessed his litany of failed attempts, throughout the endless replays, to change that part of his history; but once Jack and Teal'c joined them, he'd done everything he could to hide how he was being affected. He'd pasted on a fake smile hoping Jack and the others wouldn't guess what was really going through his mind. If they did, they'd just turn their backs on him like everyone else had and he'd find himself alone once more.

The vision flashed through his mind as he pulled the keys from the ignition and he pulled in a sharp breath. "No," he ground out. He'd fought hard and long to control the feelings that came with thoughts of his parents' death but it was shattered now. He pounded his fist on the steering wheel in frustration before quickly getting out of the car and nearly running into the apartment building. He bypassed the elevator running up the stairs instead.

One of his neighbors called out to him as he moved quickly down the hall to his apartment but he was so wrapped up in the memory that seemed to keep playing in a loop in his mind that he didn't hear her. He'd thought that loop would end after they left the game but instead, the memory kept haunting him and he didn't know how to make it end.

He unlocked the door with a shaky hand and made his way quickly to the bathroom. He was barely aware if he'd closed the door behind him as he knelt in front of the toilet and emptied his stomach. The nausea had been with him since he'd first realized what he was seeing and each replaying of his parents' death had seemed like a punch in the gut.

Once the heaving stopped, he moved away so he was leaning against the wall. "No," he breathed out in a ragged voice as the memory replayed yet again. He kicked out at the cabinet under the sink. Why hadn't he been able to do anything? He'd just stood there and watched them die. It didn't matter if he'd only been a child. There should have been something he could have done. They were his parents, the only family he'd ever known and he'd just stood there. In that so called 'game' he'd tried different ploys. His parents had ignored everything he did and nothing had changed. How could it? The cold, analytical part of his mind understood what the terrified and lonely child within him could not.

"No, no, no," he began chanting in a low voice. He wrapped his arms around himself and slowly rocked back and forth, as tears started to fall from his eyes unchecked. He lost himself to the horrid memory…to the screams of his parents…the shouts of the workers…the horrid creaking of the chain and smashing of the stone…the brief flash of red before someone grabbed him and pulled him away.

When he came back to himself, he wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting on the bathroom floor rocking back and forth. He pushed up shakily on legs that had stiffened from lack of movement. He flushed the evidence of his grief away, rinsed his mouth out, splashed cold water on his face then made his slow way out of the bathroom. He was surprised when he looked out the window and saw how dark it was. He was sure it had still been daylight when he came home but he had no knowledge of the passage of time while he'd sat in the bathroom with the memories replaying. Was it even the same day?

He wandered into the kitchen but he didn't want food. He didn't think he could keep anything down. He just wanted to forget and lock the memory back behind the door in his mind where he'd kept it all these years. Like the proverbial genie out of the bottle, though, he couldn't put it back.

He made his way to the bedroom and lay down fully clothed. If he couldn't forget right now, maybe he could just find refuge in the blankness sleep.

He dropped off quickly, exhausted from the emotions that had raged that day but it didn't take long before his sleep became restless and the memory haunted his dream. Three times, he jerked awake as the stone fell before he gave up on being able to obtain refuge in oblivious sleep.

He made a pot of coffee and pulled out some translations he'd brought home to work on…anything to keep his mind occupied so he couldn't think…couldn't remember.

Eventually, fatigue pulled at him and he leaned over the table, pillowing his head on his arm. As before, it didn't take long before his sleep was shattered by dreams.

He had to escape the images and the sounds and the only way he knew to do that was to keep busy with something – anything and try to resist sleep as much as possible. He made more coffee and started on the translations again.

For the next three days, he did everything he could to keep himself distracted so that the thoughts and dreams couldn't intrude but the more he tried, the more they came unbidden. He could have gone back to the SGC, worked in his office and been with people that would have helped keep him distracted but he knew all he'd see from his co-workers was sympathy and pity. They'd ask questions or make those inconsequential noises that were somehow supposed to be comforting and they'd say they were sorry while offering him an ear to listen; only he didn't want pity and he didn't want to share his pain. He had guarded it all these years, holding it in and carefully hiding it. He'd become selfish and was loathed to share it with anyone. No one wanted to deal with an emotional wreck. It was better to hide than risk alienating the people he considered friends.

Instead, he sat in his apartment alone. When the translations he had were done, he'd pulled books from the shelves and read. He made pot after pot of coffee to keep himself awake. He barely slept and hardly ate as he worked to rebuild the door he'd kept this ache hidden behind.

When the knocking started, he ignored it just as he had ignored it every time the phone rang. He wasn't ready – not yet. He needed more time before he was ready to face anyone. The knocking continued, growing more strident and a voice accompanied it. "Go away, Jack," he whispered when he recognized the voice but the pounding continued. He had no choice. He had to face Jack at least long enough to tell him to go away. It hurt less when he pushed people away by his own choosing than it did when they saw what a mess he was and turned their backs instead.

Jack looked at his watch in annoyance. He'd now been standing in the hall knocking on the door; well, actually pounding on the door to Daniel's apartment for the last five minutes and it still hadn't been opened. "I know you're in there," he called out, letting his impatience into his voice. He gave the door another hard knock. "I saw your car outside. Now, c'mon."

He heard a door further down the hall open and saw a face staring back at him. "A picture'd last longer" he snapped and smirked with satisfaction as the face quickly retreated and the door slammed shut.

"Damn it, Daniel, answer me," he ordered as he felt worry clench his gut. What if there was some reason besides Daniel's innate stubbornness that was preventing him from answering his knocking? Frasier had said there should be no ill effects from those VR machines but what if she'd missed something? Sure, he, Carter and Teal'c were fine but that didn't mean Daniel was. How many times in the last year and half had he had something done to scramble his brain? He'd lost track of how many times his friend had been ribboned, zatted, or knocked out...and that was to say nothing of Nem's little memory probe machine. What if it had all finally combined and the reason Daniel wasn't answering was because he was lying unconscious on the floor?

No one had heard anything from Daniel in the last three days. He hadn't been seen at the SGC since he'd left after the debriefing. That, in and of itself, was out of character but hadn't been enough to raise any worry in Jack. After all, Daniel was one of those academics who wallowed in his studies. Hell, the man had mostly books in his suitcases on that first trip to Abydos...not willing to leave the few possessions he had behind on Earth. No...Jack hadn't been worried until the phone call.

When Carter had called this afternoon and said she'd been trying to get Daniel on the phone for the past three days without any answer, he still didn't see any need to worry…until she'd finally told him just what it was she and Daniel had been experiencing thanks to that damned gamekeeper. She'd been hesitant at first; not wanting to betray Daniel's privacy but Jack had eventually pulled it out of her.

He'd known that Daniel had been orphaned young and raised in a series of foster homes. That information had been in his personnel file and, as his immediate supervisor in the StarGate program, he'd been privy to that information. He'd even guessed, from Daniel's comment to the gamekeeper, that the Jacksons' deaths were somehow involved in whatever memory the sadistic little bastard had chosen to tap from Daniel's psyche. He just hadn't known under what circumstances the Jacksons had died nor that Daniel had been a witness to it.

He couldn't imagine what that must have done to him as a child to witness that horror or what it must be doing to him now having relived it. No kid should have to see that.

He was lifting his hand to pound on the door again, ready to break it down if it came to that when it was opened. "Finally," he said as he took in the disheveled appearance of his friend. He felt some relief that Daniel was well enough to answer the door but his appearance didn't do anything to quell all of the worry. When it looked like he might have the door closed in his face, he shouldered past the other man into the apartment.

"C'mon in," Daniel sarcastically said to the empty space that Jack had occupied moments ago then swung the door closed.

"Didn't you hear me out there," Jack demanded once Daniel had turned to face him. Frustration that his knocking had been ignored warred with his worry and, for the moment, he let frustration win. "And don't say 'no' 'cause your neighbors were opening their doors. If they heard me, you must have."

Daniel just shrugged and wandered in the direction of the kitchen with Jack following behind. "What's going on, Daniel?" The worry crept into his voice. "I know Hammond gave us four days downtime after P7J whatever but no one's heard a peep out of you for the last three days."

"Isn't that what downtime is?" Daniel asked sullenly as he slumped wearily on one of the kitchen chairs. "I didn't know I had to check in."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Jack's concern rose as he took in his friend. There was something off about him, like he'd given up or something. He looked around, taking in the empty mugs that littered both the table and the sink. "Tell me you haven't been living on coffee the last three days." He turned worried eyes to his friend. "What's going on?" he asked more gently. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Don't know," Daniel answered after a moment's thought. "Yesterday, maybe. I haven't really been hungry."

"Yesterday? Would that have been breakfast, lunch, or dinner...or maybe a nice little snack," he asked lightly hoping to draw Daniel out. It was already late afternoon and, depending on when he'd last eaten, he'd gone 24 hours or more on just coffee.

"I don't know," Daniel replied, heatedly. "It's my life. I don't have to keep track of what I'm eating for you unless that's become a prerequisite for being on the team." He got up from the chair and moved closer to Jack getting in his personal space. "I'm a civilian, you know. I don't have to do everything in some by the book way and...and constantly check in and let you know what I'm eating or drinking. Just…just go and leave me the hell alone. I don't need a babysitter."

Jack paused for a beat, caught off guard by the hostility in Daniel's voice. He knew his friend valued his privacy and didn't like to be told what to do but this went beyond that. This was more like an animal cornered and fighting back and that wasn't like Daniel at all. "No one's trying to order you around," he said reasonably. "Most times when we've got some time off it nearly takes a bomb to get you out of your office but this time, you haven't been around and you haven't been answering your phone so forgive me if your friends were - maybe - a little concerned. And as for eating, I'd think that's something your parents might have told you was kind of important to do at least a couple of times a day." He saw Daniel blanch at his words and wished he could call them back. The last thing he'd intended to do was remind him of his parents. Not after what that damned gamekeeper had done. He started to apologize but wasn't given the chance.

"You leave them out of this," Daniel half-shouted. He wrapped his arms tightly around his body and took a few steps back from the other man until he bumped into the chair where he'd been sitting before. He let himself drop heavily to it. "They have nothing to do with this."

Jack blew out a breath and took the chair opposite his friend; this was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought. He'd been right. What his friend had experienced was playing heavily on his mind. He had a feeling the memories that had been so carefully hidden away now had free reign and Daniel just didn't know what to do with them. For a moment, he wished he'd sent Carter to check up on him. He was out of his element when it came to touchy feely. She'd have been better for this but he was the one who was here now. Daniel needed someone – a friend – who could help him through this minefield of memories and feelings and he'd be damned if he was going to leave him floundering on his own. It might require flying by the seat of his pants but it wasn't as if he'd never done that before. "Oh, I think they do, Daniel. I think that's exactly what this is all about."

"You don't know anything," Daniel said sorrowfully.

Jack reached across the table and gently grasped Daniel's wrist. "Then tell me." He waited a moment to see if Daniel would open up but when he continued to sit mutely, looking down at the table, he pulled in a breath and let it out.

First things first. If he was going to get Daniel to face his memories, he had to take care of him physically. That meant getting some food into him and maybe a couple of hours of shuteye. Judging from the dark shadows under his eyes, Jack was willing to bet he'd been doing about as much sleeping as he had eating. And, who knew, maybe that was all he really needed – not that he really believed that. It was going to take more than food and a nap to get rid of the haunted look in his eyes but at least it would be a start.

He didn't say anything as he got up and started looking through the cupboards for anything that might be edible. He wasn't surprised to see that Daniel hadn't done any grocery shopping recently. That was par for the course. He found a can of tomato soup, some bread that was neither moldy nor too stale and a couple of pieces of cheese in the refrigerator. Grilled cheese and tomato soup would have to do. It was good old-fashioned comfort food.

"What are you doing?" Daniel finally asked when Jack opened the can of soup.

"Making you something to eat. What does it look like?"

"I told you, I'm not hungry." This time, there was no anger in the younger man's voice - just resignation.

Undaunted, Jack continued to put the meal together. "Don't remember asking if you were." Daniel's stomach picked that moment to grumble and Jack looked pointedly at him. "And unless you've got a percussion band in there, I think your stomach would like to beg to differ with you."

Daniel shrugged slightly but didn't say anything. Jack found himself wishing he would. He thought of all the times he'd tried to get him to quiet down and now he was wishing he'd talk. For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the kitchen were the ones he made as he finished warming the soup and making the grilled cheese. When they were done, he put them on the table in front of his friend. "Eat," he commanded.

He was somewhat disappointed when, instead of putting up any kind of argument, Daniel picked up the spoon and did as he was told. He'd been hoping to get some kind of push back from him even if he did know his friend needed the nourishment. Instead, Jack watched as he stirred the soup listlessly then took a small sip of it followed by a bite of the sandwich.

"I'd rather have coffee," Daniel said when Jack put a glass of water in front of him.

"I think you've had enough of that the last couple of days. As much of it as you've been drinking, I'm surprised you're not permanently wired." It's a wonder you don't give yourself an ulcer Jack thought.

He watched for another few moments to be sure Daniel continued eating before going into the living room. He shook his head when he saw more coffee mugs there and questioned just how many Daniel owned. He gathered them up and took them to the kitchen speculating if he'd find more in the bedroom or bathroom. At this point, it wouldn't surprise him.

When he came back into the kitchen, he noticed that about half the food was gone and Daniel was now sitting with his elbow on the table and his hand propping up his head. He looked like he was ready to fall asleep where he sat.

Jack took the spoon from lax fingers and put it in the bowl before gently shaking Daniel's shoulder. "C'mon. Time for you to get some sleep," he said softly. He pulled the half-asleep man up from the chair and steered him out of the kitchen. He intended to lead him to his bedroom but Daniel had other ideas and veered toward the living room couch. "Ok, here is good, too," Jack agreed and pushed his friend to lie on the couch and stuffed one of the small cushions under his head. Daniel was asleep almost as soon as he was horizontal.

"I won't even ask when the last time you slept was," he said to the sleeping man then went into the bedroom to get a blanket. He draped it over him, gently took the glasses from his face, then stood just watching him sleep for a moment. Again, he couldn't help asking himself if he were in over his head and if he should call in some reinforcements. As quick as the idea came, though, he discarded it. He had a feeling having anyone else here would be exactly the wrong thing to do. Daniel needed time to regain his equilibrium before facing the others and Jack'd have to give him that time, no matter how uneasy it made him. It was what Daniel needed right now that mattered.

With his friend settled, he went back to the kitchen to clean up. As he looked at the array of used coffee mugs, he couldn't help but wonder how one man could need so many.

He was putting the last mug on the drain board when he heard a noise coming from the living room. He cursed softly under his breath. He'd hoped Daniel would be able to sleep longer than this. He tossed the dish sponge in the sink and hurried to see what was happening.

When he stepped in the living room, he immediately noticed that Daniel was no longer sleeping peacefully. He was tossing his head back and forth and making small sounds of distress. As he got closer, the sounds turned into words. "Mom, mom," Daniel cried softly before more loudly calling out, "Mommy," and jerking up. He blinked and looked around disoriented.

"Easy, big guy," Jack intoned as he sat on the coffee table in Daniel's line of sight. He ran a soothing hand up and down his arm hoping to alleviate the skittish look in his eyes. A part of him felt like he should do more but wasn't sure if any further touch would be welcomed. "You were having a dream."

"Dream," Daniel echoed in a near whisper. He looked around and spotted his glasses on one of the end tables and reached for them but didn't put them on right away. "I was dreaming," he said in a near monotone. "I was seeing it again...the capstone falling."

Jack had guessed as much when Daniel had called for his mother. He had a good idea that this had been happening a lot over the last three days. He hated that it was and, not for the first time, he wished he had that sadistic son of a bitch gamekeeper in front of him so he could put his fist through his face. What the hell could ever make him think anyone would want to relive what he'd put Daniel through? It was one thing when he thought about the memory that had been plucked from his mind, and what it had felt like to see his team get ambushed and John killed, no matter what he did. He'd been an adult and had seen more than his share of shit. As much as it had hurt, it didn't compare to the trauma Daniel had suffered. Jack had been an Air Force captain and every time they went out on a mission, there was always the possibility that someone wouldn't return. Daniel had only been an innocent 8-year old kid, completely unprepared for the horror of seeing his parents crushed to death in front of him.

He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly hoping his anger would go with it. Anger was not going to help right now. Right now, it was time for that seat of the pants flying he'd been thinking about earlier.

"I'm not going to tell you it's ok. I bet that's what a lot of people have done." He waited until there was a nearly imperceptible nod. "I'm not gonna tell you I'm sorry, either. Bet that's the last thing you want to hear." This time, he didn't wait for a reaction. "After Charlie..." He trailed off at the painful memory of his son but then quickly pushed his feelings to the side. "I heard that a lot…too much. It's what everyone thinks they're supposed to say but it doesn't really help. It doesn't make anything better."

He ducked down a bit, trying to see Daniel's face better and get some idea of what was going on in his mind. He wanted to suggest that he just talk but knew that wasn't going to work. Daniel could be stubborn and if he didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to. Instead, he tried a simple question. "How old were you?"

"Eight. I'd just turned eight a couple of days before."

"Spent your birthday in the Big Apple, huh?" He tried to hold back surprise that his question had been answered so readily.

"Yeah" Daniel answered. "It was the first time I'd ever been to New York." There was a small pause. "It was the first time I'd ever been to the States. I wasn't born here...I was born in Egypt."

That piece of information Jack knew but considering how rare it was that Daniel shared parts of his past, he didn't point out that he knew it. If he did, Daniel would probably clam up again. Instead, he nodded slightly hoping he'd keep talking.

"When we got to New York," he continued, "I was amazed at the buildings. They were so tall and there were so many of them. I'd been to Cairo but compared to New York...," he shook his head to convey the difference between the two cities.

"I guess it was a pretty big difference," Jack agreed. He waited, hoping he'd go on without prompting.

"I wanted to go in every one of them and see if the people looked like ants when I looked out a window," Daniel said with a smile. "Momm...Mom said we could go in the Empire State Building. We were going to do that after they finished...that day." He looked down, sadness in his eyes. "I've never been there."

Jack moved from the coffee table to sit by Daniel on the couch. He put his arm out, unsure if he should put it around his shoulders, pat him on the back or what. He settled for resting his hand on his back and rubbing gently. He'd caught how the younger man had self-censored himself from using, what he guessed, was the name he'd had for his mother when he was a child - the same one he'd called out in his dream. "Tell me about it, Daniel," he commanded in a soft voice. "You can't keep it locked up forever."

At first, Daniel shook his head, reluctant to share. He'd held onto this pain for a quarter of a century. It was his to bear - his to hide. He chanced a quick look over to Jack and was caught by surprise by what he saw. He didn't see the pity he expected or the quick sarcasm he'd grown accustomed to over the last couple of years. It didn't look like his friend was going to leave either. Instead, he saw nothing but a caring and compassionate expression that broke through the new and still flimsy barrier he was trying to hide behind. "Why did they do it?" he asked plaintively. "I was just a kid...just a little kid. They shouldn't have done that and left me alone."

Ok, Jack thought. This isn't quite what he'd expected but, then again, when did you get what you expected when you flew by the seat of your pants. "Do what?" he probed. He supposed Daniel meant die but he wanted to be sure.

"Stand there? Why did they just stand there? Didn't they know what could happen...how stupid it was?"

Definitely not what he'd expected and he sure as hell didn't have a good answer for the question - not that Daniel gave him a chance to even try to come up with one.

"What if it was my fault?" He got up from the couch and went to stand by the windows staring out at nothing.

Jack got up and followed him over but stopped a few feet behind him. This time, he was positive that his touch wouldn't be welcomed if he were reading Daniel right. "How could it be your fault? You said it yourself, you were a just a kid?" He was smack in the middle of the minefield he'd thought of earlier and if he said the wrong thing now, it was going to blow up in both their faces.

"I kept pestering them and asking all sorts of questions about everything in the museum and then I got bored with that. I kept asking when we could leave. I wanted to go see the tall buildings again."

Definite minefield, Jack thought. This wasn't just twenty-five years of grief but twenty-five years of guilt, as well. "You didn't do anything any other eight year old kid wouldn't do. Charlie..." again, he had to push his own feelings to the side. "Charlie could ask more questions than either Sarah or I ever had a hope of answering. That's what kids do, Daniel, and your parents knew that. Hell, knowing you, that's probably what they expected and if you hadn't, they'd have thought something was wrong with you." This time, he did reach out, grasping the other man's shoulder and turning him around. When he saw his eyes, he saw not just the grief and guilt of the man in front of him but also the pain and fear of the child he'd been. "It wasn't your fault, Danny. It never was."

"That's what they called me," Daniel said softly.

"Your parents." A small silent nod was the only answer and he saw the tears threatening to overflow Daniel's eyes. He was unprepared when he abruptly dropped to his knees as if he'd been driven down by the weight of his emotions. Jack followed him down to the floor, trying to ignore how the unforgiving wood felt against his knees.

"They were all I had," Daniel cried brokenly then repeated it. His arms wrapped around his torso as he began slowly to rock himself back and forth.

Jack reached over and pulled his friend's shuddering body to him, trying to offer what comfort he could. As he did, he couldn't help but wonder who had offered this same comfort to the eight year old. When he felt Daniel's arms go around him to grab fistfuls of his shirt and the barely audible, "I was alone," he came to the sickening realization that no one ever had. Jack squeezed his eyes closed at the thought of that little kid being left on his own, to navigate alone through the grief of witnessing his parent's death.

Jack tightened his hold, tucking Daniel's head under his chin, rubbing his back, and rocking gently. "You're not alone, Danny. You're not alone." He kept up the gentle rocking and back rubbing making soothing sounds. Eventually, the choking sobs tapered off to silent tears and then even those stopped.

He tilted Daniel's head so he could see his face and offered him a small, reassuring smile. "Ok?" he asked.

Daniel swiped his hand over his face trying to wipe away the evidence of his tears. "Ummm," he said uncertainly as he started to push away from Jack, sliding slightly across the floor back toward the windows. Embarrassment was starting to show in his eyes. Jack didn't want to worsen the embarrassment so he let him go.

"Umm...sorry," Daniel sheepishly apologized without meeting Jack's eyes.

"For what?" Jack asked as his eyebrows rose. "For having feelings?"

"For..." Daniel's voice trailed off and he gestured to the wet spot on Jack's shirt.

Jack shrugged off the apology. "It'll dry," he said flippantly then leaned over to grasp Daniel's shoulder. "Don't you ever be sorry for having feelings, though. You hear me?" He could see that he was already trying to hide behind his self-made walls and wanted to head that off. "Daniel?" he asked when there was no ready answer. This time he got a small nod.

Satisfied that, at least for now, his friend wasn't going to hide away, he pushed up off the floor with a small grunt as his knees let him know how they felt about his time spent on the floor. He offered his hand and pulled Daniel up to his feet as well. "Why don't you take a shower and I'll order us up a pizza, meat lovers with extra everything right?"

Daniel glanced down at himself then over to Jack. "You trying to tell me something?" he asked with his eyebrows up.

Jack pointedly looked him up and down taking in the rumpled clothes, three-day growth of beard on his face, tousled hair, and pinched look to his eyes that probably spoke to a headache. Mentally, he decided pizza might not be the best choice. "Yeah, you could do with a shower and clean clothes," he responded. He saw a glimmer of the Daniel he was used to in his eyes but the vulnerability that had been on display just moments ago was also still there. "Trust me, you'll feel better."

"I guess," Daniel agreed as he rubbed his hand over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Once Daniel was in the bathroom and the water was running, Jack called for Chinese thinking egg drop soup and white rice might sit better in Daniel's stomach than pizza would.

Once dinner was ordered, he went into the bedroom. As was the case with the rest of the apartment, almost every available space had been filled with artifacts or books or both, but Jack was still able to find clean clothes for Daniel

Next, he turned his attention to the bed and started to smooth out the rumpled linen, As he straightened the pillows, he caught sight of the two framed photos on the bedside table. The first he recognized as a copy of the same picture of Sha're Daniel had in his office at the SGC. The second was one he'd never seen before and he carefully picked it up. He looked at the young couple with a small boy between them. In the background, a pyramid rose high and, on closer inspection, he saw the boy clutched a teddy bear that looked suspiciously like an Egyptian pharaoh. It was an easy guess that the couple were Daniel's parents and that the boy was his friend. There was too much of a resemblance, even if the boy in the picture couldn't have been more than five or six. Besides, he'd recognized Daniel's smile.

Jack was intently looking at the picture and didn't realize Daniel had come into the bedroom until he heard his voice. "It's the only picture I have with them."

Jack whirled around at the sound of Daniel's quiet voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he said as he replaced the frame with a gentle hand.

Daniel moved closer, picked up the picture and ran his finger gently over the curve of his mother's cheek. "It's ok. You're not prying." He turned the photo so Jack could also see it. "That's Tut. Dad bought him for me when I was three. He used to go everywhere with me."

"Best friend, huh?" Jack asked with a smile. "You still got him."

At the question, Daniel's face fell. "No. I lost him somewhere along the line between foster homes." He held the photo out towards Jack. "This is all I really have left."

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. The words 'I'm sorry' had been on the tip of tongue to say before he stopped himself remembering what he'd said about those same words earlier. Instead, he patted Daniel gently on the shoulder. "Get dressed. Food should be here soon," he said then left the bedroom.

When Daniel came out a few minutes later, he was dressed in the sweatpants and t-shirt Jack had left out for him. He leaned back against the counter, stuffed his hands in the pockets of a zip front sweatshirt and watched wile Jack hunted for something in the refrigerator.

"You know, you really should consider going to the grocery store every once and while," Jack grumbled as he swung the refrigerator door shut and leaned back against it. He looked over at the younger man and thought, not for the first time, that Daniel sometimes didn't look much older than twelve or thirteen. This was one of those times. The sweatshirt Daniel had chosen was a couple of sizes to big and it made his six-foot frame seem smaller than it actually was. "Looks like there's a choice of water or this apple juice," he said, holding up a bottle that was only a quarter full.

"I can make some coffee," Daniel suggested only to be intercepted on his way to the coffeemaker.

"Oh no. Judging by the number of mugs you had around here and amount of coffee grounds in the trash, I think you've had enough for at least the next month. Once you're done eating, you need to get some sleep...unless you're planning on getting a job as the new Energizer Bunny."

"I don't want to sleep."

"I know," Jack agreed. "But you do need to. You're practically out on your feet just standing there." He saw Daniel getting ready to argue with him. "Hey, you can either sleep now or pass out and find yourself in the infirmary. I'm sure Frasier'd love to use you as her personal pincushion. Totally up to you."

"Ok," Daniel agreed with no enthusiasm. He was tired...couldn't remember the last time he'd ever been as tired as he felt right now. On top of that, his head was throbbing and the overhead light felt like it was searing through his eyes to his brain. He wasn't sure how he was going to choke down the pizza he knew Jack was going to force on him. He just hoped that he was so tired that there'd be no dreams this time.

The buzzer sounded indicating their dinner was being delivered. "I'll get it," Jack said as he moved to buzz the deliveryman in.

"Hey, how'd you get in," Daniel asked curiously as he sat at the kitchen table. It had just occurred to him that he didn't remember the buzzer ever sounding and he knew he hadn't buzzed Jack into the building.

"Doorman let me in," Jack explained as he went to the door and pulled it open. A few minutes later, he was back in the kitchen with the bag of Chinese food.

"I thought you were getting pizza?" Daniel asked as he watched the food being unpacked.

"Was but I didn't think you'd be up to it." Jack leaned over to put the carton of egg drop soup in front of Daniel. "Figured this'd be a little easier on you right now.

"Probably," Daniel agreed with little enthusiasm.

Jack pulled a spoon from one of the drawers and handed it to Daniel with the order to eat then went into the bathroom to look for something Daniel could take to help the headache. He returned with two Tylenol that he put down on the table near Daniel's water glass then filled a plate from the cartons of food. As he sat opposite his friend, he saw the two tablets hadn't been touched. "They'll do more good if you actually take them," he advised pointing at the tablets with his fork.

Daniel looked at the two Tylenol at first tempted to push them away and tell his friend he didn't need them but then thought the better of it and swallowed them with some of the water. His head was pounding and they'd probably help - at least a little.

The rest of the meal was spent mostly in silence. Jack tried to talk about inconsequential things just to fill the silence but gave that up quickly. Daniel was in pain right now and ready to go down for the count. He wasn't up to conversation no matter how uncomfortable the silence might be making Jack feel.

When he saw the younger man had stopped eating and was doing no more than twirling the spoon in the soup, he got up and grasped his upper arm. "C'mon, time to get you to bed."

"Ok," Daniel agreed quietly and let Jack tug him up from the table and lead him to the bedroom where he threw the sweatshirt to the foot of the bed then curled up beneath the sheets and thick comforter. He was slightly surprised when Jack leaned over and began to jerk the covers in place. For just a second, he thought he was going to tuck him in.

Once he was satisfied that Daniel was covered warmly, Jack stood up straight again. "I think I'll just crash on your couch tonight. Let me know if you need anything."

The knowledge that he wasn't going to be left alone for the night caught Daniel by surprise. It wasn't until Jack was in the doorway that he regained his power of speech and called his friend back. "You don't have to stay," he said when Jack looked at him expectantly. "I'll be ok."

"I know I don't have to, Daniel," Jack patiently explained. "But I want to. I told you, you're not alone and I mean it." He moved back to the side of the bed and brushed the hair back from Daniel's forehead. "You know that's what families do. They take care of each other. You, me, Carter, and Teal'c...that's what we are now. We're not just a team. You got that?"

"Family?" Daniel questioned in a near whisper.

"Yeah, family," Jack agreed. "You know...people that care about each other, help each other, take care of each other. Family." He could almost see the gears moving in Daniel's head as he processed what he'd just said. Again, he felt grief squeeze him that Daniel had been robbed of that simple comfort as a kid and it seemed to come as a surprise to him now.

"Family," Daniel said again but this time, a smile curved his lips.

An answering smile came to Jack's lips as well and he bent down to twitch the covers one more time. "You just sleep now so you can get rid of the headache. I'll be here."

Daniel loosened one arm form the covers and held it out. "Thanks, Jack."

Taking the proffered hand, Jack gave it a quick squeeze then covered Daniel back up. "Anytime. Just rest now."

When he came back to the room fifteen minutes later to check on him, Daniel was fast asleep. He'd rolled over onto his side, snuggling down into the covers but Jack was able to see the faint smile still on his face.

He moved closer to the bed and brushed the younger man's hair back from his forehead. He knew the odds that the bad dreams that had been plaguing Daniel being gone were somewhere between slim and none but, this time, he'd be there. And, later, when Daniel was feeling better and they had a little time off, they'd have a little team building exercise in New York at the Empire State Building and maybe, just maybe, Daniel could recapture just a little bit of his childhood that had been lost.

As he walked out of bedroom, he stopped at the door and turned around to the sleeping man. "You're not alone, Danny," he whispered echoing his promise of earlier.


End file.
